


One Night With A King

by WinterWriter (Bebluvsnaru)



Series: The Prophecy of Three [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, One Shot, Shameless Smut, Undercover As Prostitute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-30 17:33:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13956588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bebluvsnaru/pseuds/WinterWriter
Summary: Part I:Sarella Sand had been disguising herself as a boy for years, living as an acolyte among the maesters of the citadel.  To be able to steal their knowledge as a woman, deceiving a bunch of arrogant old fools, was the joy of her life.  After an encounter with Samwell Tarly in Old town, she decided to leave the citadel and travel north.  Her travels north were much more treacherous than any of the rest of her journey for the last three years.  But at the end of her journey, she finds herself in the most shocking place... in the bed of a king.





	One Night With A King

The bastard king in the north stood in front of her like a shaggy black wolf on the prowl. His face was scarred and cold but still handsome. His long curly dark brown hair flowing into his thick black fur coat, making him appear wild and almost feral.

Sarella Sand was certain no one in this court had any idea of her true identity. They may have heard of her name and reputation, but none knew her face or physical appearance. She had been disguising herself as a boy for years, living as an acolyte among the maesters of the citadel. To be able to steal their knowledge as a woman, deceiving a bunch of arrogant old fools, was the joy of her life. When she first arrived in Old town at the age of sixteen, it had been a game for her. A game that ended badly but led her exactly where she needed to be.

After her encounter with Samwell Tarly in Old town, she decided to leave the citadel and travel north.

She was given a prophecy when she was a young girl that she would bear witness to the return of the three headed dragon, and there were three who she sought to find. She would touch each one of their fates. It was her entire purpose in this lifetime.

With the rumors of the birth of dragons across the sea to Daenerys Stormborn, now the queen of dragons and the breaker of chains, Sarella’s curiosity got the best of her, and she left Dorne for Old town to seek more knowledge.

Her northern travels were much more treacherous than any of the rest of her three year journey. She made it to the Riverlands before she was caught by slavers. She was taken as a serving boy, but soon her ripe and voluptuous breasts were discovered under bindings, with hips that put Andromeda herself to shame among her baggy clothes.

After that she was sold to a courtesan and forced to grow out her hair, long and curly, tied back in a half bun to keep its bushiness out of her face. Her tanned skin was painted. Her pants and tunic were burned, and replaced by as skimpy a cloth as the courtesan could find to hid her vital parts. This of course was very impractical for the north as it was already winter. So a heavy fur coat was thrown over top of her whore’s clothes, and she was shuffled with the rest of the cattle to be appraised by the king.

She had been happy to see that their travels still took her north where men with a taste for women like her were few and far between. The pale thin girls with long blonde, gold, or red tresses were always the first to be chosen. She was usually not picked at all. She expected the same today in the king’s hall.

So when Jon Snow stopped and looked her dead in the eyes, she was so shocked, she took a step back. The courtesan poked a finger into Sarella’s back to prevent her from backing up any further. She said, “Awww… good choice, my grace. This is Nance. She is a delicacy from Dorne, the land of sand and sun.”

He waved his hand slightly, indicating that he wanted her and then moved on to confer with his advisor without another word.

She was surprised that the courtesan was called to the king’s hall at all. Jon Snow was not known to have a taste for whores. In fact, it seemed exactly opposite of what Sarella heard about his character from Tarly. But if the stories were true... that he died and came back to life, it was possible that event caused a shift in his palate as well.

The courtesan pushed her forward, whispering. “You were picked girl. The boy there will show you to the king’s quarters. Prepare his bath and be ready to warm his bed.”

Sarella nodded turning her head only slightly to catch a glimpse of the woman who stood behind her. She turned her head back and spotted the serving boy who appeared to have come from the northern wall with his king. The boy wore black and appeared tougher and sturdier than the serving boys from Dorne.

She followed the boy up the stairs and down a narrow hall to a room in the back of the drafty castle. This was not luxury. And no king nor prince of Dorne would have ever found the plain piney four post bed or the cold stone floors and walls acceptable. She often wondered how she had allowed her curiosity to take her so far from home.

She just hoped no one realized who she was before her journey was complete. Sarella Sand, the most rebellious of the sand snakes, able to slit a grown man open from head to toe with just a small dagger. But none of her skills were useful here. Even if she did miraculously manage to assassinate an entire castle, she would have to make it through hundreds of miles of snow and ice in order to escape.

She ordered the serving boy to bring up hot water for the bath. Then she began to set up the room as best as she could with the little that she had to work with. She had been taught as a young girl how to seduce a man. It was the only reason that the courtesan had not left her for dead already.

After she set up the bath, she removed the coat from over top of the thin gown which hugged at her round hips, buttocks, and breasts. Her nipples hardened and poked through the thin cloth in response to the cold room. She loosened her hair letting her thick curls fall over her shoulders and down her back. Then she waited.

Sarella learned right away, that the largest portion of a whore’s day was spent waiting. Waiting for men to show up, waiting for men to choose which woman that they wanted in their bed, waiting for the man who chose you to finish his business. Then waiting for him to leave, so you can wait for the next man.

Well now she waited for a king. She supposed she should feel honored that the first northman to have her was the bastard king, chosen to rule in the north. But, to be honest none of these northern ways meant much to her. The idea that a bastard was somehow different than a true born child was completely foreign to her. She was technically a bastard herself.  In fact she had not seen her real mother since she was baby, who last she heard was a drifting captain of a trading ship. Her mother was from the Summer Isles and was the likely source of melanin in her skin and the kinky curl of her hair. But in Dorne, Sarella was still a sand snake just like ever other one of Oberon Martell's nine honored daughters. Blood was blood and it always meant more than the sigil or the sword.

The chamber door opened suddenly and Jon Snow appeared behind it. His expression had not changed, still stoic with fierce black eyes. He quietly appraised her, as she lay on his bed, and then he moved over to his dresser without a word.

She got up and moved off of the bed, moving as seductively as she was able over the cold stones of the drafty room. She took his fur coat as he removed it from his shoulders and lay it on the dresser. She moved around him, just close enough that her left thigh brushed slightly against his hand as he quietly stood watching her.

She then moved in front of him, undoing the top buttons of his black undercoat and pushing it back to reveal the white shirt underneath. She lay his under coat with his fur coat, turning against him so her round buttocks brushed against the region of his manhood.

When she turned back, he was peering down at her curiously, but he still did not utter a word. She undid the buttons to his shirt and striped him of it, revealing a lean muscular torso and chest underneath. Deep and angry scars crisscrossed across his chest and stomach. One sat right over the region of his heart.

“Does my grace want his bath?” Sarella asked in a soft and silky voice. She resisted the urge to inspect his infamous scars and stared intently into his black eyes. Moving her hands to his pant waistline, she undid the belt and the buttons without waiting for a response.

Jon Snow said nothing. He just stared expressionlessly back into her eyes, as his pants dropped to the ground, leaving him fully naked. Sarella was certain he had to be cold, even a northern man should not have been able to resist the warm bath that sat on the other side of the room. But he only wrapped his fingers through her curls and looked at her hair. Then he moved his callused hand to her face, stroking her cheek and running his thumb along her lower lip. He leaned down and kissed her softly.

She had not been expecting this. Not the kiss nor the tenderness of his touch. It had been a long time since she received this type of affection and never from a powerful stranger. His hands moved down her arm as his kissed her, gripping the small of her back and pulling her body in towards his body. She opened her mouth to accept his tongue, thinking in the back of her mind this was highly irregular, but she could not refuse a king.

Jon Snow released her and took her hand, leading her to his bath. As he stepped into the hot water, Sarella moved to take up the cloth to bath him, but he held onto her hand tight so she could not reach it. He pulled her back to him, loosening the top of her gown and then pushing it off of her shoulders so it fell to the ground. After looking her naked body over, he sat down in the tub and pulled her in with him, so she was seated on his lap.

He gripped her breasts from behind, his lips brushing softly against her ear, tracing down to her neck. She felt a moan escape her lips before she could stop herself. He responded by rubbing her hardened nipples with slightly more friction. She leaned her head back, arching her breasts further into his hands as his mouth found her collar bone and the base of her neck.

His hands wandered down further, across her flat abdomen and in between her thighs. He rubbed her most sensitive spot, made even more sensitive in the warm water. She felt herself reflexive respond to his hand. He dug his fingers into her as he continued to tease her clitoris.

In between the waves of pleasure that he was sending through her body, she had a distant thought that she was supposed to be pleasuring him. Who knew this rugged king in the north could seduce a woman better than she could seduce a man?

As his hand brought her to orgasm, she moaned, “My grace.”

Now he spoke. He whispered in her ear. “Call me Jon.”

He moved his fingers just slightly so her body shuddered with another orgasm and she moaned, “Oh fuck me, Jon.”

As though obeying her every command, Jon Snow stood up out of the water, picking Sarella up bridal style and carried her to his bed. Both their bodies were wet and slick with the bathwater. He lay her on the bed and climbed on top of her, entering her before she even had a chance to collect her thoughts. She clung to him as he moved inside of her. Their bodies passionately intertwined together.

Finally gaining her bearings, she rolled over top of him and began to ride him, looking into his black eyes. She could tell from his face that he was beginning to orgasm, but was attempting to hold back in order to ensure she had another peak too. He moved his hands to her hips placing pressure right at the top of her buttocks. She felt her pelvic muscles start to shudder and she arched back, moaning with her coming orgasm. Jon allowed himself to release at the same time, both of them groaning with pleasure. He whispered, “Sarella.”

At first, Sarella was not sure that she heard him correctly. Without bothering to remove him from inside of her, she collapsed forward, exhausted on top of his chest. And then her brain began to work again, and she realized that the king had just said her real name.

She lifted her head and peered at him. He was looking back at her. His face still unreadable. “My grace… I mean, Jon… how do you…”

She broke off not sure if she should be questioning him.

He finished the question for her, however. “Know your name?”

“Yes.” She said breathlessly.

“I knew who you were the moment, I saw you in the line.” He responded.

“What will you do with me then?” Sarella asked, terror electrifying her nerve ends. Had his plan been to fuck her and then kill her? Was he deciding her fate while still inside of her? She was certain that she was in deep shit.

Jon Snow moved the hair from Sarella’s face gently. He asked, “You don’t remember me? I’ve been looking for you for a very long time.”

She frowned, not sure what he was talking about.

“I traveled to Dorne with my father, Ned Stark, when I was only fourteen or fifteen. I met a young girl there, only a few years younger than me, named Sarella Sand… The fourth daughter of Oberyn Martell, who received a prophecy from a desert witch and a few years later ran away never to be heard from again.” Jon responded. He rolled over on top of her, moving his hips again, his cock stirring to life inside of her. “You will bare witness to the three headed dragon. You will touch the fates of each of their lives.”

He moved with more intensity, driving deeper inside of her as he spoke. “I received a prophecy from that same witch on that same day.”

“Ummhmm…” Sarella’s mind whirled as his lips caressed the side of her neck and he lightly bit her jaw.

“She said I was destined to cross paths with Sarella Stone again when we were much older. That our lives would forever be intertwined from that day forth.” He thrust into her, causing her to arch up and back into another orgasm. She moaned and moved her own hips against him as the pleasure built. Jon Snow wrapped his arms around her waist, rolling them both to their sides releasing his own groans into her hair and the side of her neck.

Sarella turned her head towards him. Jon met her lips again, placing his nose against her nose. She asked, “Is us fucking what she meant about our lives being intertwined?”

Jon only laughed, before kissing her again. “I don’t know. But I’ve been waiting for you for awhile now. It’s the three headed dragon that will defeat the army of the dead.”

Jon Snow made love to Sarella Sand over and over again that night. She had never experienced that type of pleasure in her life, not even growing up as a young woman learning the ways of seduction in Dorne. It was as if he had not spilled his seed in months and he was inclined to spill it all in that one night.

She fell asleep soon after and when she woke up, she found daylight streaming in through the high window and Jon was seated on the edge of the bed.

She sat up, holding the fur against her naked body. “I didn’t mean to stay here so long, my lord –I mean Jon.”

He looked back at her. “You’re awake.”

“I shouldn’t have slept so long…” Sarella did not know what else to say.

“The courtesan has already left. I paid the price for your freedom.” Jon said. “You are free to leave and return to Dorne if you like… but I really want you to come with me to dragon stone to meet the one who calls herself the queen of dragons.”

“I’ll come with you.” Sarella responded. She really wanted to tell him that she would follow him anywhere even over the edge of the earth.


End file.
